[ She can get on by herself, at least. She might not be the steadiest rider he’s ever seen, but she isn’t the worst. Not like she’s riding it into battle. He figures for a trot around the city’s edges, she’ll do fine.
Geralt peers at the horse. He can sense the question in Alina. She isn’t asking, though, so he doesn’t volunteer. Getting into what he is tends to be—complicated. And he’s used to not needing to explain himself, when the entirety of the world back home knows exactly who and what he is. ]
It’ll hold. [ He shifts his gaze up toward her. ] Like I said. Just bring her back to the stables in town.
no subject
Geralt peers at the horse. He can sense the question in Alina. She isn’t asking, though, so he doesn’t volunteer. Getting into what he is tends to be—complicated. And he’s used to not needing to explain himself, when the entirety of the world back home knows exactly who and what he is. ]
It’ll hold. [ He shifts his gaze up toward her. ] Like I said. Just bring her back to the stables in town.